


Sleight of Hand

by fair_veronian



Category: Doctor Who, Doctor Who (2005)
Genre: Alternate Universe, F/M, Gen, POV Multiple
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-01
Updated: 2017-12-01
Packaged: 2019-02-09 06:40:22
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 708
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12882279
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fair_veronian/pseuds/fair_veronian
Summary: When Donna touched the hand she regenerated, no duplicate was ever formed. Donna died quietly without argument and the universe is grateful.





	Sleight of Hand

They railed against the instinct to relinquish their tenuous hold on physical form despite the searing agony. The energy trying to shred their atoms had started something unexpected, they could feel it reaching out, weak but determined, desperately seeking purchase within the faltering oasis of reality. They focused on maintaining cohesion until whatever it was managed to take hold. Oh and what a surprise that was! (And take a moment to consider how rare a thing it is to surprise a millennia old multi dimensional being). Practically screaming in relief as they were forcefully thrown back to the comfort and safety of the vortex. They metaphorically shrugged off the unease and set about concentrating on making some emergency repairs, content to leave the pilot to their task. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Consciousness is a peculiar feeling to return to, especially when accompanied by physical sensations that differ so disconcertingly from what you knew previously. That being said, it was not a completely foreign feeling either, unsettling but manageable. Absorbing a brand new perspective, and one so young! That was very foreign, heartrendingly so when you realise how that must have occurred. Brilliant in its ingenuity, terrifying in its destruction, merciless in its execution. As always, time for reflection is brief where Daleks are concerned, time to once more accept the mantle of soldier and grieve for the fallen when the day is done, (if you survive).

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Dying seemed strangely anticlimactic, brief spasms of horrifying pain interspersed with oblivion. No parade of memories (small mercies if considered rationally), no fear, no regret just acceptance and perhaps curiosity. She had expected to feel angrier, maybe even aggrieved but once she had recognised the golden cloud (by which point she had already succumbed to it she now realises) her thoughts had been mostly contented. She could accept her own death if it prevented others, happily. She let go of her last breath in this world and was consumed in the flames. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Materialising into the vault was not their first choice. Ceasing to exist across all dimensions however was no choice at all so here they were. They repressed their song of mourning for now, its time would come. They were more concerned for the pilot’s hearts once they understood what else they had lost as a result of the Daleks all encompassing malice. They prepared for it once more.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Smaller hands, longer hair, better posture, pleasant adaptations to make. Emotional maturity, compassion and fear, not so much. Post regeneration was always a trying time, adjusting in the midst of the end of the universe, definitely going in the list of top 5 worst ways to go. No matter a solution was in sight, newly adapted neurology proving exceptionally more beneficial than expected. Accessing the control panel was surprisingly easy when you’re being underestimated and ignored. Doubt that’ll last. Telepathic contact unfortunate and confusing but comforting as well. Will get used to it. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Shock. Relief, joy, gratitude, and Shock. How she had managed it there’s no telling but there she is, saving them all. Again! The contact feels strange though, echoing back and reverberating uncomfortably. Why is that? Oh, oh no, no, no, no! That is not fair, she should be able to see this, see her world safe again, her family, everyone’s families. The whole of creation, hers to command if she could only stay. The cruelty is immeasurable, inevitable, soul destroying and yet they are still here. Facing a constant reminder in gentle gold flecked irises that lie softly about who they belong to. Looking into those beautiful eyes and seeing their reflected soul is more than deserving punishment for their hubris. More than should be tolerable.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Lying to them hurts as it never has before. Seeing the confusion, replicating the love, attempting the impossible. They sense a difference but are convinced by their own desires. Dying was undoubtedly easier but not kinder. They are happy with the lie and so the lie will continue. Not the first or last time that’s happened. Escape comes quickly and denial cements itself. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Grief pervades them, seeping into their structures and surrounding their hearts. The brightest flames burn the quickest and hers was blinding. They will mourn together, then they will go on, they’ll live, they’ll remember.

**Author's Note:**

> I know this reads disjointedly but I didn't want to change it. Sorry xx


End file.
